Morpork minus Vetinari
by Belkassem
Summary: When a giant finger crushes the centre of ankh morpork, factions arise to struggle for the power that Lord Vetenari has left behind... (finished, for now)
1. The Finger of Wart

Disclaimer: all that I did not create myself in this fanfic belongs to the authour or creator of it, and not me.  
  
The Marauding Magic Chapter 1: Wart Lancaster, wizard extraordinaire and student of advanced headology at the Unseen University, was slightly uneasy. Only slightly, as 500 000 pieces of gold make anyone much more amenable to ideas like burning down houses, opening the gates to marauding hordes, or endangering the universe by attempting to wipe people out of time. Once again, he told himself to remember the money. No nightblade of the Guild of Assassins had ever earned so much, as they were usually on a kind of permanent loan to the University. He grinned; thinking of the money had worked, as always. He turned to the perfectly to scale model of the Disc and wondered at how gods must feel. He smiled, thinking of how easy this method of assassination was. He reached down, and squashed central Ankh-Morpork with a finger. Rupus Drumknott was not going to see another day, and, as he realised when a rather disturbing crunching noise started, he had misjudged the scale.  
  
What a pity, he would never see what he caused, just would scream for a while "AAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGG-  
  
Lord Rust had no time for the impossible. However, today he made an exception. It appeared that that incompetent fool Vetinari had no more tricks up his sleeve. And even if he had had some, the oversized finger that had squashed most of the 'government' of Ankh-Morpork probably did not like excuses.  
  
He glanced round at the room of people, the surviving 'civic leaders' of the city. Lord Downey was looking rather uncomfortable, so Rust hurriedly started the meeting  
  
"Gentlemen, as you no doubt have noticed, our city is missing some important things. Now, this city has been in need of some real leadership for some time, with all these dwarves, trolls and other ... unsavoury creatures that have imposed themselves onto our city. I propose we put in a leader who knows what the people really want. Myself, for example."  
  
"that would be extremely inadvisable" The last time you attempted leading the city we damn near lost a war" grated Mr. Slant, one of the few lawyers ever to be awake through their post-mortem, "obviously the city would benefit from somebody who has its best interests at heart. Somebody who understands the precedents and antecedents of civilised ankh morpork life...such as mys-"  
  
"You're bloody joking! The closest thing to a sane ruler this city has ever had and you're arguing about who gets it!? You're insane, I might even suspect you of plotting his downfall, and just to stop either of you from getting away with it, I propose that I, a man evidently having no connection with the plot to kill Havelock, should be the new patrician!" screamed Mr. Boggis of the Thieves Guild, who seemed to be in a near apoplectic state. Everyone else in the room had gravitated to one of three corners, behind Rust, Slant or Boggis, and a large amount of gold changed hands. (The fourth corner was not noticed. Apparently, everyone in the room supported one of these pursuers of power, and the fourth corner had been reserved for those who believed in democracy. Fools). It was a brilliant stand off, with each group swinging dramatically and majestically to leave, realising that there was only one door, and fighting to get through it. The budding rulers eventually managed to accomplish this mind-boggling feat of warfare and strategical planning, leaving behind only two eyes and several teeth, which Mr. Slant quickly retrieved. 


	2. The Trappings of Democracy

Thanks tindomiel, kangaroo joe, helpful comments!  
  
The Trappings of Democracy  
  
Elsewhere in Ankh-Morpork, the good citizens had a different idea of who should rule the city. From somewhere they had got the idea that all men should be the patrician, and get the vote. The 584th meeting of the Morporkian Institute of Many Rulers, or MIMyR, the true reason Vetinari hated mimes, led by Chairman Meow, was also 'discussing' the matter. Piano Englebert (whose naïve parents had wanted a musical instrument), one of the 'totally equal' lady members, was currently haranguing the chairman  
  
"Chairman Meow, it seems to me that you are putting yourself up to be the next ruler of the city, total and complete, against the will of the people, as if you believe that, although all are equal, you believe you are somehow more equal, as if your views represented those of the entire group. Well I for one do not support your bigoted, capitalist views and don't for a minute believe the rest of this assembly do!" Chairman Meow, shouting over a frenzied chorus of "hear, hear" and other outdated methods of showing support, replied  
  
"I suppose I shouldn't have expected a girl like you to understand the delicate workings of my plan for all the people of this city, but then I foolishly believed that one so gifted in looks would not have been captured by the lures of the capitalist rot-piles. That entire speech was straight out of the mouth of William de Worde!" A second, louder, chorus of support drove her out of the meeting and into the river Ankh (where she set up a fishery and sold the best fish guts in all Ankh-Morpork, and also discovered her musical teeth and numerous other delights...)  
  
William de Worde was also having an interesting day, because as he rushed to the press to get his report on the "Hole of Ankh-Morpork" printed, he had found his path obstructed by a troll, a giant redhead, and, most significantly, a gnome. Under extreme duress, he had been 'escorted' into his own printing office, only to be confronted by the most terrible sight in the world: Sam Vimes with added masonry.  
  
"Good Gods, you look awful! What happened?"  
  
"WHAT HAPPENED!?" Vimes howled, in a freakishly quiet voice, "The centre of the city is destroyed and the patrician probably killed, and you ask me WHAT HAPPENED!?"  
  
"Well, you jus-"  
  
"I look so bad?" again in his trademark 'quiet voice' "I. WAS. THERE."  
  
"What?"  
  
"At the palace. I was there. I survived only with the help of a strangely large whorl" (it could have been a loop, no one knows) "and you are going to help me."  
  
"Help you do what?"  
  
"Set up a worthwhile government. Have you seen the crackpots running for power? There are some fools saying everyone should get the lead, or something, and Slant, Rust and his type are already carving up the city! Vetinari dies and it's like the entire city is out to grab what they can! I can't believe it, it's like we were under Lord Snapcase again; total chaos and madness, with all the scum floating to the top"  
  
"I didn't know you felt so strongly, but why do you want me to help? You hate me and my paper!"  
  
"Yes, but you are one of the few 'True Morporkian Institutions' that are still working, and you do have a printing press. That will come in useful."  
  
"What for!?"  
  
"A barricade." 


	3. The River of Freedom

Thanks to all my beta 'writers'  
  
River of Freedom  
  
While Vimes and de Worde had been discussing various uses for a printing press, Lord Rust, Mr Boggis and Mr Slant had begun consolidating their power.  
  
The city of Ankh-Morpork was, in their eyes, the biggest pizza ever, and they divided it up like one. Through a series of raging street battles, Lord Rust, being the big cheese grater, ended up with the upper Ankh area; Mr Boggis with the pepperoni, the slaughterhouse district; and Mr Slant with all the olives in the middle that no one likes - the courthouses, Gleam street and, nominally, the Shades.  
  
During this frenzy empire building, Chairman Meow and the Morporkian Institute of Many Rulers took over the rule of the ruins of the palace and the rest of the city centre. Meanwhile, Piano Englebert was the owner of the Ankh-Morpork's first floating pub, the Prid of the Ankh, her fishgut business having gone down the plughole. It became the chosen meeting place for those unhappy with the state of the cities government. And also a place to get very, very drunk, if not a particularly safe one. But any people, using the term loosely, who fell into the Ankh were usually sober enough to get back up in a squelchy stupor and stumble back onto the pub-boat.  
  
It was one month after the destruction of the palace, and Piano Englebert was happy.  
  
Very happy.  
  
For a while she had been devastated by the collapse of the fishgut market (wholly unexpected and very distressing) but now she was a member of the Ankh-Morpork Political Watch and her life had a whole new meaning (One may by now have noticed this distressing trend of Piano's to jump on bandwagons, but one is sure that this plot will eventually not need her to do so...possibly).  
  
Her wonderful pub had also been having hard times, like her fishgut business, caused by the problems in getting to it and the fact that all money was taxed off people as soon as they had it. But now she was a member of the AMPWatch her pub had been declared the official secret meeting place, and on top of all the other members of the AMPWatch, hundreds of spies and killers sent by the city's current governments, all trying to look inconspicuous by drinking the beer (made from authentic river 'water'), had driven profits to an all-time high, never mind the extra cash she got from Vimes and William de Worde for giving the Times somewhere to be printed after it had been thrown out of Gleam street.  
  
Life was good.  
  
From the depths of the floating barge came a startling commotion. Usually this would not be surprising, but it didn't sound like the city's latest popular hit ("row, row, row your pub gently down the sewage), or at least one of the popular hits you got on this pub. It sounded more like a scream, not that they weren't common, but this one sounded –  
  
"Piano, get down here!" a scream that sent shivers down Piano's spine "Get. Down. Here. NOW!" The control in that voice was...non-existent. Piano started running for the hatch to the cabins.  
  
"You took your time!" Angua growled. Literally.  
  
"Sorry, I was as fast as I could, but, why did I have to be so fast?"  
  
"You should know! Carrot is missing! There's a gods damned hole in his cabin and you didn't know!?"  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
William de Worde slipped through the room, effortlessly avoiding entering the dialogue, and, when about to leave the increasingly damp cabin, turned and said:  
  
"Have any of you seen Vimes?" 


	4. Punishment? What Crime?

**Punishment? What Crime?**  
  
"Why worry where Vimes is now? Carrot. Is. Missing!" snarled Angua. "No..." Piano murmured.  
  
"What!?" asked William and Angua  
  
"You don't think that they got him too, do you?"

* * *

Gaols should not be like this. Not if you were in them. They should be open, airy, light and definitely have a loose rung in the bars, otherwise there was just no point. You most certainly should not be chained to the floor by chains wider than your waist, nor should you be in a cell without windows, without light. It was almost enough to make you lose hope in the narrative process. Yet Vimes did not despair. He might be trapped, but at least Sybil and little Sam were still free-  
  
A loud clanging behind him surprised him, as did the sudden rush of light that blinded him. He waited for the newcomer to speak. It didn't take long.  
  
"Well, Mr Vimes. It seems you have finally made a mistake in your campaign of terror against the innocent citizens of this city." A discreet, cultured voice spoke, tempered with an edge of steel; the owner of which was stood, carefully, behind where Vimes was chained to the floor, and probably in shadow as well.  
  
"You WHAT!?'  
  
"You mean you wish to dispute the statements of so many witnesses? No, it is too late. You have already been convicted. You and Carrot won't be seeing many people in the rest of your life, just Sybil and your son, who, incidentally, won't be seeing many people either, in the rest of their, tragically short, lives."  
  
The door slammed, the light faded, and Vimes was once more left with a brilliant view of blackness, this time with added spiders. But now he despaired.

* * *

"NO! If Vimes is gone...he holds us together. He IS this 'AMPWatch' thing, without him and without Carrot we might as well all give up and go support Meow." Angua said, too surprised to argue.  
  
"We might as well carry on, you mean. William, call a general meeting and, Angua, get the hole patched. We are taking on ... er ... water? Well, some substance, anyway." Piano was really getting into this initiative business...  
  
"Lord Rust, Lord Rust!"  
  
Lord Rust's headquarters was once a stable for dragons. Now, it once again resembled a home for dragons, in Rust's opinion, with sheets of paper and lost clerks everywhere. He turned to meet the running aide with his frostiest stare.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Sir, we just got intelligence from our sources onboard the Prid of the Ankh. Some of Vimes' top lieutenants _(note from author: I don't care if you are Americanised; this is pronounced lef–ten-ants)_ just called an emergency general meeting of all members of AMPWatch, and it seems that Commander Vimes is missing, along with his entire family, and Captain Carrot."  
  
"That is a surprise. Perhaps He has simply tired of that joke he seemed to think was better than us, though I find such a thing unlikely. However, no doubt one of those misguided fools who think to deny me of my birthright have persuaded him to support them, instead! Erm...whoever you are, find out just which of those ignoble pretenders has his support, and then find Vimes. And then...do whatever you have to, to get him to stop being such a barrier to my plans!"  
  
"Yes, my lord"

* * *

The emergency meeting had been a disaster. Catastrophic. Most of the group had elected to leave, and only a handful were willing to consider helping out in a rescue attempt. The possibility that Vimes and his family, never mind Carrot, had chosen to leave never crossed the minds of any that remained in AMPWatch. The bar, surprisingly, at this hour (12:30 pm), was near empty. Angua, William de Worde, Otto, Piano, and a strange being, species unknown because he always, even when sleeping, wore a black cloak, one that hid his face in deep shadow, called Nænorn, who claimed to be knowledgeable about these things, were the only occupants.  
  
"You know, back in Uberwald it is usually considered necessary to know vhere a person is before freeink him" commented Otto  
  
"We can't not try though! We could raid Rust, Slant and Downey, and Meow too, if we had to, anywhere in the city. We must find them! Otherwise it'll be one of them that rules this city. We need Carrot and Sybil and Vimes to hold us as the opposition!" exclaimed Piano.  
  
No suggestions were forthcoming, and silence reigned. The time passed, ticking, as inspiration completely failed to hit any of the 'old guard'.  
  
Then, Nænorn said:  
  
"I believe I may be of some help to you in this. I was employed by the late Rufus Drumknott to aid him in clearing up some discrepancies in his accounts. Discrepancies like several assassination attempts, and several missing persons. The patrician's mistress disappeared a while ago, the Baroness Hanna, you know (please, read mercator's stories on that). In my... employment, I built up a web of contacts. I am sure they will be delighted to know they have been reactivated, and even happier when they are paid. After Vimes is back, of course."  
  
No one said anything for a long time. Then, Otto said;  
  
"Vell, that iz interesting, but... vy did you vait so long before telling us? And, who the hell are you anyvay? Vy are you here?" 


	5. Odd Visitations

**Odd Visitations**  
  
This is all that is left of the palace and the surrounding districts: a great stinking (literally) pile of rubble that covers a huge area of ground.  
  
It is also the headquarters of Chairman Meow and his fanatics, who camp in tents above the spot where the Oblong Office once stood. Further in than that, in an as yet untenanted spot close to the kitchens of the palace, or what was left of them anyway, the rubble was shifting in a manner most surprising. A muffled shouting rose from the spot, then a repeated banging noise. And then, the rubble fell away and a large metal thing crawled out. On tracks. It appeared that not all the occupants of the palace had died. And there you were, thinking I could not twist this story more.

* * *

A door in the side of the vehicle opened, and out of it, partially masked by smoke and light, stepped a man.  
  
A dark street, deep in the middle of the shades, grew fractionally darker as a ... monkey-like thing, stumbled out of a door, probably to some kind of drinking house. What was drunk there is, perhaps, best left unconsidered. And behind the orange furball was a man, or at least, biped.  
  
"And stay out! We don't want your sort in here!" he shouted.  
  
The orangutan mumbled, muttered, and then staggered down the street, trailing ... just trailing generally.  
  
It turned down a darker, more alley-like alley, and was waylaid by a shape in a dark cloak. It seemed Nænorn was contacting his old compatriots.

* * *

And now, after the scene is set, we enter the heart of the Unseen University; the University Library. A room full of wizards, all of whom look rather uncomfortable. In a wizard's general meeting, silence is the key.  
  
"Archchancellor, I would like to point out that all of the leading leaders in the city are opposed to magic" said Ponder Stibbons, breaking under the stare of an overly large grimoire.  
  
"I don't see how that matters. I mean, we don't need them, and they certainly can't throw us out of the city!"  
  
"But-if we are on bad terms with the patrician, then we could go back to the state we had in Snapcase's reign, when no-one trusted us, and there were no invitations to the annual dinners!" pointed out an exasperated Ponder.  
  
"That is a problem. We will have to send envoys to the Slant, Rust, Boggis and that mad man...Meow"  
  
"That wasn't what I mea-oh bugger it" Ponder left, too surprised at his companions to think. Shortly, he was followed by the Librarian.  
  
They were heading for the palace, or where it once stood.

* * *

Boggis was happy. He listened to the noise of hundreds of blackjacks, swords, daggers, pitchforks and other sharp implements clash, and then gestured for his deputy chief advisor to resume his speech.  
  
"We may not have the equipment of the pretenders, but we know where to strike. We know their plans. We know who kidnapped Vimes and Carrot, and how to get to them. In fact, we know where Carrot and Vimes are. Meow may think nobody can get them from that cell, but we could. In my opinion, my lord, we are currently fully capable of taking over full control of this entire city, if we can set up a puppet king. Like a certain ex-Watch Captain, if you catch my drift. Our men could take down any of the militias of those who would usurp your rightful patricianship!"  
  
"Very good, Mr. Garrett. I like your plans. You are now my chief advisor, and as your first job, I would like you to implement your plans for war-"  
  
The door slammed open, and Mr CMOT Dibbler walked in and deposited a tray of miscellaneous foodstuffs on the table  
  
"Refreshments for you, gentlemen."  
  
He walked out, straight through the training yard, straight past the armed sentries, straight back to his paymaster. Nænorn, of course. Sometimes the best way to not be seen is to be as visible as possible.

* * *

Up at the palace, the man who had emerged from the tunnaling machine looked up at the approach of Ponder Stibbons and the Librarian.  
  
"I don't see why you foolowed me, though. 'because I felt like it' I just don't believe"  
  
"Ook"  
  
"Look at what-oh! Hey, you're Leonard da Quirm!"

* * *

Authour's note. For gods sake, you didn't think I'd bring Vetinari back, did you? You poor obsessive people! Authour's note 2 I know the wizards aren't right. Don't bother commenting. 


	6. Vetinari Lovers look away now!

I'm sick of this story, but I might continue it later. For now, it ends here, with more plot than any of the other chapters combined. Sorry if you like Vetinari. It HAD to be done, because there are too many stories where he appears invulnerable. Of course…he makes a return, but…well…

****

**Vetinari Lovers-Look Away Now!**

The sun rose over Ankh-Morpork, sluicing it, revealing its faults to the dedicated observer. From this vantage point, high in the sky, it is possible to see the stark divisions in the city. Neglected, left on their own in the dark pit of storydom, three of the four pretenders to the Patricianship of Ankh-Morpork have 'fortified' their positions. The city, now more than ever, resembles a rotting, mangled pizza, sliced but not eaten. But in the centre, instead of olives, there is rubble. And men, marching out toward the city. Toward the walls of the other pretenders, Chairman Meow's revolution did go.

On a closer view, one simian and two men were travelling toward the erstwhile camp of Meow's 'army', now guarded by just a few men. One was riding some kind of vehicle.

* * *

Commander Vimes remembered his latest interview with the bastard. The _ma__n_ who had dared to threaten his people, his family that way. To drive him to this, supporting the one man who had no business ruling the city. And he had always thought it would be a vampire that would do for him. Instead it was a bloody human! Well, a Carcer-like_ 'human'_. So, now he had to give a speech saying that all "Right-minded morporkians" should support _Chairman _Meow. He _had_ to, or Carrot, then Sybil, then…He _HAD_ to.

He glanced round at the men, looking for anything that could count as a weapon, defining weapon loosely, but his hands were tied behind his back…

Still, there must be something he could do, when that scumbag was just in front of him.

"AH!" Vimes 'slipped'.

…And so did all the carefully arranged marching rows behind him, and the _man-thing_ in front; Vimes somehow managed to swipe his legs and get his head in a lock between his knees, while all the soldiers were falling like dominoes.

* * *

Sergeant Angua was drilling the remaining members of AMPWatch, the few who had stayed after Vimes 'left', when the message on what was going on in the centre of the city reached her. Piano, and Otto as well, were 'out on errands' somewhere (possibly together) so she was nominally in charge. There was only one thing she could do. Of course, it would have to be by a roundabout route. They needed to pick up some 'recruits' from the other throne-chasers.

"OK, people, we're going to party at Rust's, then Boggis', then Slant's. And then, we're heading for the palace."

The only way they were going to pull this off was if the back side of the different HQ's were ridiculously underprotected. Which, Angua thought, as her eyes fell on the complete lack of defenses on the river at Ankh, at least one of them was.

Angua, on her own, slid over the wall of Vimes old pile. Avoiding the traps with ease, and the help of her unnatural sense of smell, she was soon into the manor itself, by virtue of a conveniently open window.

She heard voices from the next room.

"-Rust, you can see how you're men are needed so much, and how you will of course contribute some of them to my cause. Otherwise, well, we will win eventually, and what will happen to you then if you don't, it doesn't bear contemplating."

"But, you, you're-"

"Yes. And? Are you going to 'lend' me the services of your men?"

Someone had beaten her here! It was unthinkable. She slammed open the door-

"Alright-you can have 50 men. That's half my garrison here."

Angua ran into the room, to be confronted by a cloaked back. She realised it was Nænorn.

"How the _hell _did you get in here!?"

"Practice. It always helps."

"Well, if you're so _practiced_, maybe you would like to do this with the other _leaders_ too!"

"Very well,"

* * *

As they finally made their approach toward the palace and Meow's horde, with an army of around 400 people, 350 more than they had started with, Angua wondered how he had done it. Then, she realised she'd rather not know.

Then she saw Vimes.

* * *

"Oook,"

"But how do you know they are there?"

"Oook. Ook!"

"You just do. Great!"

"How does he know _what_ are where?" asked Leonard

"He thinks that Carrot and the lady Sybil are buried under our feet!"

"Well, we can find out. I brought my machine-for-digging-through-anything with me!"

"Ook!"

"What?"

"He says, dig!"

"Will do," said Leonard "Get in."

He pressed a few buttons in the leviathan, while Ponder and the Librarian hopped hurriedly aboard. It started shaking, then attacked the Rubble ground with dog-like ferocity. The unnoticed, approaching guards from Meow's camp were, tragically, buried under a hail of flying rubble.

In a few minutes the flailing arms stopped.

"What's happened! Has it broken down!?" asked a terrified Ponder.

Strangely, the Librarian seemed to not be bothered by the machine's sudden halt.

"No. We have broken through to the cellars of the palace."

As he spoke, a young, red-headed man swung up into the machine, brandishing a fallen piece of rock.

"Oh, it's you. I'd thought it was something else trying to kill us!" exclaimed Carrot, upon seeing the Librarian, "Sybil, you can come up"

Before he had said Librarian, Sybil, hampered by her young son, swung aboard.

"Right," continued Carrot "We have to get to Meow's army. They're blackmailing Vimes into supporting them!"

He was met by an anguished stare from Leonard

"The machine is stuck! We can't get out!"

"I could levitate you out." said Ponder, happy at last to have a worthwhile mission.

"Do it!"

* * *

Angua listened as Vimes destroyed her force's cohesion. None of the watch, still the core of her army, wanted to go against him, though many knew he was being coerced. They needed a miracle if they were to get through this without a conversion to wholesale communist-dictatorship-ism. She just hoped that someone, _anyone_, could provide one.

Three things happened at once.

Otto _flew_ in from the east and whipped Vimes away

Carrot shouted "Commander, Sybil and Sam and I are free!"

And the horde of Meow charged.

2000 against 400. It should have been an assured victory. The collaborative AMPWatch force should have won almost without loss. Unfortunately, I refuse to bow to such things as the wishes of my beta readers.

After a few minutes of battle, the AMPWatch force was split into small groups. Each one was being slowly massacred.

Angua stood with her back against Nænorn's.

"Shouldn't be long now," he muttered

Then a pitchfork took him in the ribs, a sword in pierced his thigh and a meat cleaver amputated his arm at the same time. Even the best can be overwhelmed.

And Angua changed, dropping her sword, and charged the mass surrounding her.

* * *

The next thing she knew, she was in a small tent, surrounded by _friends_.

_Stupid dog mind!_ she thought, and changed back to human.

"What happened?" she asked

"Slant decided that it was his duty to defend the 'one true king'," answered Carrot, in a voice dripping with more irony than one person should own.

"I didn't think he had it in him!"

She looked round at the surrounding faces. Some looked sickened - probably from the change. Oops.

"Where's Nænorn?"

"He's-"

"Here," rasped a voice "But I am not Nænorn. My onetime spymaster died in the attack. I am-" His rasping voice cut off, and then a rattling noise came from his side of the tent.

"He was Vetinari," finished Carrot.

* * *

A/N: I await any and all reviews. I might continue this story.

Also, 2000 might sound like a lot but the population of Ankh-Morpork is 1000000


End file.
